Captain America: Paragon of Vir- Oh, Never Mind
by allthingsavenger
Summary: Captain America was supposed to be the paragon of virtue but at the moment it certainly didn't appear that way. Rating is T bordering on M. Aka. I've been listening to 'Bad Enough For You' by All Time Low too much. So sue me.


_A/N: So I've possibly been listening to 'Bad Enough For You' by All Time Low too much. So sue me._

_I just wanted to write some badboy!Steve. And no, he's not being a slut he's just bent on driving Tony out of his mind. Oops. Possibly reminiscent of someone I know. Shut up alter ego Tony. But yes, Steve actually is this evil. Also this was actually a little weird to write because it's kinda out of character for Steve but I was expERiMenTinG oKAY forgive me for butchering characters just this once (and every other time I write things but anyway I should shut up now)._

Captain America was supposed to be the paragon of virtue but at the moment it certainly didn't _appear_ that way. Tony stared, mouth slightly ajar as Steve chatted up a blonde flirt in her twenties, hair rippling down in waves to her waist. He continued to stare from across the bar as Steve said something that may or may not have looked like it included the term 'date' and then the woman was writing down something, her number probably, on a napkin and handed it to Steve. He took it gracefully and then excused himself, sidling up to the other end of the bar away from the woman and then when her back was turned, Steve dropped the napkin in the trash. He turned back and when he caught Tony staring at him, he _winked_.

Tony gaped and then snapped his jaw shut, blinking, but Steve had already turned his attention to the crowded dance floor and _holy shit_, he didn't know Captain America could dance with _that much_ hip movement.

Tony stared some more and then he turned away and moved into one of the dimly lit corners of the club because he needed to hide both his flushed cheeks and his erection. He took off his blazer and held it in the crook of his wrist and stood there until Clint wandered over.

"Oi Stark, do you think maybe Steve's a little drunk?" he said by way of greeting.

Tony shrugged. He wasn't entirely sure that was possible, but they hadn't done any extensive testing on Steve's alcohol tolerance so he didn't have any conclusive evidence.

"Dunno," he answered. He dragged his eyes away from Steve to look at Clint.

"It's kinda weird" he shrugged, "y'know, I mean, it's Steve."

Clint shrugged and motioned at the bar, "want another drink?"

"Nah, I'm good," Tony tilted his head at the club entrance, "crowd has died down a bit, hopefully we'll be able to get out of here within the hour."

Clint shrugged and headed for the bar, "suit yourself."

Tony stayed and tried his best not to stare at Steve and then Bruce appeared at his elbow and held out a glass.

"No, I've had a couple," he said, but Bruce just handed it to him and said, "water."

"Right," Tony answered and took a long drink from it gratefully.

"Cap looks good," Bruce commented and Tony tried not to drop his drink.

"Calm down," the scientist said, turning to put a steadying hand on his forearm, "I meant healthy, Steve looks like he's grown used to the place, you know, new century and all."

"Oh, yeah. Right."

"You should-" Bruce gestured with his glass. Tony frowned and turned his attention back to the super soldier and then immediately regretted it because Steve was very _close_ to a guy, messy jet black hair with a good build and-

Tony turned back to Bruce, "what?"

Bruce sighed like Tony wasn't understanding something he should be.

"You should ask him out, Tony," he said matter-of-factly and Tony put down his drink and then picked it up again and then put it back down.

"Right," he picked up his glass again.

"Yeah."

"I don't thi- crap." Steve was walking over to them, pushing a hand through his messed up hair and Tony had been _so close_ to controlling his bodily urges but great, that had gone out the window.

"Hey," he said with a nod at them both and then he _smirked_ at Tony, reached over and plucked Tony's drink from his hand, tipping it back and downing it in one go. Tony stared and stared and stared and then he hastily excused himself and bolted.

* * *

Tony bounced on the balls of his feet for seven hours, tinkering with things in the workshop even though they didn't really need tinkering with and then he pulled himself together and rode the lift up to the rec room and waited for Steve to appear.

Steve was already there though, so he wandered over to the couch where Steve was half sitting, half lying and hovered until Steve tilted his head backwards to look at him upside down and said, "Tony."

"Yeah, that's me, hi Steve," he answered and then blurted, "so, you wanna get dinner? I mean, on a date, do you wanna go on a date to dinner?"

Steve considered him for a second and then sat back up as if he wasn't particularly interested.

"Sure," he said and shrugged and Jesus help him, Tony was going to go out of his mind.

"I- sure?" he repeated.

"Sure," Steve answered again and then looked pointedly at Tony, "what time?"

"Uh, dinnertime- I mean, uh- six thirty."

"Cool," Steve said and turned back to his book and since when did Steve say 'cool' like _that_?!

Tony gaped and then closed his mouth quietly and returned to the workshop so he could maybe process some of that.

He didn't process any of it but when six o'clock rolled around he got up and went and showered and put on clean clothes. He went to stand in front of Steve's personal quarters at six twenty eight and waited. And waited. And waited. He was getting mildly irritated.

Seven o'clock and had Steve forgotten? Because Steve was never late. But no, Steve opened his door at ten past seven with a towel around his waist and his hair damp and water droplets running down his chest and Tony was about to have a heart attack when Steve looked him over and then said, "oh right," and closed the door again.

He came back outside dressed in a dark blue shirt tucked into khaki pants and what the _hell_ was even going on?

Steve just said, "so where are we going?"

Tony really didn't have any idea how to function but they ended up in a private room at Eleven Madison Park and Steve passed the entire meal with his sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms and Tony was going to die within the year. And did Steve spend a lot of time licking his lips or was that just him? And did Steve just flirt _very effectively_ with Tony's usual waitress?

Tony's brain shorted out for an extended period of time but he snapped out of it long enough to pay the bill and exit the building so he could drag some fresh air into his failing lungs. They took a cab back to the tower and Steve slouched slightly in his seat and hooked his thumbs in his belt and he _had_ to be doing that on purpose.

Tony honestly thought nothing else could surprise him. They exited the elevator to the rec room and he stepped out into the unlit room, which made sense because it was late and everyone had probably moved off to their private quarters or gyms. And then Steve stepped around so he was in Tony's way and pushed him into a wall and he was in the process of dying because Steve was kissing him in a way he didn't realise was humanly possible.

He kissed back and tried to pull Steve closer but Steve circled his fingers around Tony's wrists and pinned them to the wall on either side of his head. Tony would have said 'holy fuck' if he could but Steve had licked into his mouth and Tony was teetering on the edge of sanity.

He lost his mind when Steve pressed his thigh up between Tony's legs.

Tony ground down and moaned into Steve's mouth like a teenager who'd never kissed anybody and when Steve pulled away, he managed to hold back a truly embarrassing sound through sheer force of will.

Steve gave him a predatory smirk and kept his wrists pinned, leaning down to whisper in Tony's ear.

"I don't do sex on first dates, Tony," and then he released his wrists and kissed Tony again, slower this time.

"Goodnight," he said pleasantly against Tony's lips and then he left, as if he hadn't just shamelessly kissed the life out of Tony.

Tony just stood in the darkness, completely stunned until his breath came back to him eventually.

* * *

Tony woke up and then almost passed out again when he remembered what had happened the night before and only just managed to drag himself out of bed and put on a t-shirt and jeans.

He shuffled into the kitchen with a yawn and Steve was sitting at the table eating a bowl of muesli. Tony froze and blinked dazedly at him and then he filled up his cup with coffee and sat down next to Steve, pushing a hand through his hair.

"I-" he started and then just gave up, curling his hands around his coffee, "I have no idea what to say."

Steve gave him an amused smile, a small crook of his lips upwards which was more reminiscent of the Steve he'd grown familiar with and reached out to run a finger absent mindedly over the back of Tony's hand.

"Piqued your interest?" he said and that really threw Tony.

"I- what?"

Steve shrugged, patient, "bad enough for you?"

Tony almost laughed when he caught on.

"Oh, god," he said, stunned.

And then, "oh, god," he repeated when nothing else came and then he did laugh, softly.

"God, Steve, I was hopelessly interested since the second you laughed during breakfast the first morning the team moved in."

"Hmm," Steve contemplated, "well, I just thought- you know, you have a reputation."

This time it was Tony's turn to be amused.  
"Yeah, but reputations are for the public eye."

"Right," Steve said with a smile and then leaned over the table and kissed Tony softly, tilting his chin up with his fingertips. Tony forgot about his coffee and laced the fingers of one hand with Steve's and curled the other into Steve's shirt.

When Steve eventually paused for breath, he grinned against Tony's lips and whispered, "so you like this too?"

Tony smiled and pulled him forward to kiss him again.

"I like this a lot."


End file.
